Blame
by Klada
Summary: Something has Jace broken apart beyond belief. So much that he has begun to see things, and the Lightwoods can't help him. Only Jace can help himself, but what if he's not willing?
1. Cry

_My heart hurts. _

Something's burning inside of me, a quiver.. a shake. This is worse than any battle wound, any Mark. This pain is worse than anything I've ever felt before because… I had to for the first time, admit I did something wrong. Admit that my foolish pride is to blame. Admittance is something that has never come easy to me.

It's my broken pride and sprit, as well as another thing that I won't even begin to mention to myself that has me curled up on the cold tiled bathroom floor of the Institute. The shaking thought that everything that happened last week is my fault forces me to notice that the pain I feel is not because of the stab wound in my side that is still healing.

It's because I'm trying too hard to not cry.

"My fault."

Those words break my pride even more, until I have nothing. I realize as well something else. I have nothing else left to lose.

For some reason, after that thought echoes around the walls of my mind… I lean into the bleach white basin of the toilet to throw up.


	2. Promise

**Authors note: Well, first of all may I just say…. Wow. Even though it's only two reviews so far, I'm amazed. Thank you so much for enjoying this. :D And just a warning, I tend to update horribly cause of school and stuff.. Anyway. **

"But… Jace."

I slam the door on Isabelle. The whiny tone of her voice bugs me it's like nails on a chalkboard. She doesn't feel sorry for me, or… She's just upset because she doesn't get to have her fun since I'd rather be at home. I refuse to feel bad for my rising temper and awful behavior towards my family.

I hear her mutter something about me not being any fun. I scoff. I have never been any fun. Always absorbed in myself, only doing stuff for my benefit.

I lie down on the bed, feet on the pillow and gaze at the map on the wall. Thumb tacks of every color are holding it to the wall, they're in places, cities... countries. Places where the downworlders have sighted _him._

The door opens with a creak and I turn half expecting to see Isabelle or Maryce. But it's Alec, and he leaned against the door frame almost nonchantly.

"They saw him in Maine yesterday."

I blink, and my long eyelashes brush my pale cheek. Alec's helping me. And either he can read minds, or I said that out loud because he answers my question. Why?

"I'm only helping because you won't let up. If it's the only way to get you to be yourself…"

My eyes narrow and I don't even turn to look at him as I turn to stick another thumbtack into the map. Right on Maine.

I know I'm not myself. I don't need them to remind me. I don't feel like myself. I haven't bothered to trim my hair like I had been planning, and my blonde bangs block my vison as I turn to glare at Alec.

"Just promise me… that when you do this." Alec whispers. "You won't get yourself killed."

My gaze softens now… and the words that haunt my nightmares echo in Alec's voice.

" _Just promise me. Promise me Jace."_

I can't keep my promises.

He must see the distraught expression on my face, so he shakes his head and leaves the room.

I throw myself down onto the bed, face down on the pillow and welcome the darkness of my eyes squished against it.

"_I promise. " _


	3. scream

I twist and turn in bed. The comforters rustle and I am dimly aware of a ripping sound. However, I'm caught up in my nightmare.. in the events of last month.

"_Jace, I'm scared," She whispers to me. _

"_Clary you'll be fine." I gently pet her flame hair. _

I'm screaming in my sleep, not to make her do it. To only listen to her. Don't make her do this. I yell in my sleep, but it's useless.

"_What if it goes wrong?" Her voice goes up in hysteria. I only now become aware of that._

"_It won't. I'll see the flare," I cradle her against my chest and kiss her forehead. _

"_Promise me Jace. You have to promise me."_

In my dream, I think her fear is for nothing. She'll be fine. My waking mind is sending screams to my lips, saying no. She won't be fine! Shes not fine!

"_I promise." _

My own screams wake me up. My voice is hoarse, and it feels like I'm swallowing nails. No one's coming to check on me like they always used to. They know I'm safe at least physically. My mind is the thing that hurts me, haunts me. My skin is hot, but the blankets are cold. Covered with my cold sweat.

I wrap my arms around my legs and mutter her sweet name to myself over and over.


	4. an explosive temper

**random triva fact: this was chapter 3 orignally. :P and just for you Serenity Shadowstar... two chapters! lol  
**

The phone's ringing.

None of us move to get it. Alec glares into the cup of black coffee, icy gaze darkening. Isabelle glances at me, a elegant brow raised. She wants me to get up and answer it. Just to spite her, I won't. I spin the spoon with my thumb and watch the lumpy grains of oat thin out. Finally, small little Max pushed his chair on the wooden floor with a harsh creak.

He's getting taller, I think to myself.

How long have I been in this depressed stupor? How long? I haven't noticed Max getting taller… My nightmares and screams in the middle of the night have put lines on everyone's faces. Alec's been getting no sleep, and even Isabelle looks as if she'd seen better. Thing is… I could care less. I'm so absorbed in myself that I don't care. I only have one goal, one misson.

It's one thing I have to get done before I die.

Max bounces back into the room, large glasses slipping off of his face.

"Jace, it's for you."

Everyone stops, except for me. Alec blinks and looks up from his coffee, Isabelle drops her spoon back into her Cheerios. I just nod. Surprise does nothing to me anymore. No emotions do. I'm numb. I get up from my chair and shove the cup of coffee that was Mayrce's to the floor by mistake. I see the winces, hear the shatter and feel the tension in the air at what i just did. But i don't care. I don't even want to know who the hell is calling me. ]

I just want to get it over with.

I slip into Hodge's old office almost tripping on Church. "Damn cat," I yell, aiming to kick the white fluffball.

Even I have never been so aggressive.

The ear piece to the old white-gray phone is hanging off the desk and I slow down. I could just leave it. What if it's Luke, or Jocyeln? People I don't want to talk to. People who will only make the pain worse… I want the memory of Clary gone… just like she is.

I pick up the phone, shaking so much that I have to grab it with my other hand.

"What do you want?"

There's a sneer in my voice, that even I can hear. A thump in the phone, as if whoever it is lurched back.

"Jace?" The voice is so soft, so familiar.

"Simon?"

**Okay kiddos! So, here's when things will start to get a little more confusing. Pretty soon, I'm going to start switching POV's. Not sure which chapter it'll start, but I'll let you know. ;) **


	5. dissapperaing flames

_Problems won't disappear  
When I look you in the eye something isn't right  
Problems will interfere  
And I don't think we'll survive  
A fall from up so high  
My tears drop waiting for the fallout_

**-The White Tie Affair, THE WAY DOWN**_  
_

**Simon's POV**

Jace's voice is so quiet…. So low. Not himself, and I can tell just by being on the phone with him. He's broken apart.

"How're you doing?"

There's a long pause. I'm starting to think he hung up when the most heartbreaking sound comes over the receiver. Jace is laughing. It's not a normal laugh, it's a dry laugh that rubs my skin raw. No humor and my ears are covered in that horrible sound, as well as feeling.

"How do you think?" He chuckles.

Sadly, I have to laugh with him. Because even though my pain isn't that intense any longer… I know what he means. Another pause engulfs us and I push my glasses up on my nose.

"Why did you call me Simon?"

His voice makes me jump. Not just the tone of his voice, but the fact that he hasn't called me a slur in the whole span of this conversation. It's not like him at all. A spasm of pain shoots through me at the thought of Clary "falling this guy. The green envy is gone this time replaced by bitter sorrow.

"I needed to talk to you about her," I mutter.

I don't hear his sniffle or the cough he uses to try and stop a sob. I'm looking at the wall, where I could have swore I saw something move. A flash of red, like liquid flame.

"I don't want to talk about that Simon."

I can't get out the words I need to say so badly. They rest on the tip of my tongue but won't come. I try and compose myself, barely noticing that my glasses are beginning to fog up.. With what? Water… tears.

"I'm hanging up now," Jace's curt words sting my ears.

"No! Jace, please! What if she's not dead?" The words sound so wimpy to my own ears. /'

_CLICK._

I punch the counter and throw the corded phone down to the ground. It breaks and I pant as the red wire scatters all over my kitchen floor.

"Damnit."

I hear my name then, a whisper… a call. I run my hands through my hair and let loose another scream, pathetically happy that my mom isn't home.

I take off my glasses and move across the room to sit down on the couch. My vision is fogged and I stare at the cushion next to me. That was where she sat just a month ago. 31 days ago she was sitting here, head thrown back and laughing. A month ago her hair was brushing my cheek. And it seems so long since she sat on this couch with me and we kissed.

It was only a month ago.

I pick up the pillow and scream into it to stop my anger, frustration and sadness from turning into tears.


	6. knocking on your door

I rush past everyone eating breakfast, and watch their eyes train on me. Why are they looking at me like that? That's not a question I want an answer to. I want to know why Clary had to die. WHY? I tear a hand through my hair and run down the hall, shaking my head. I don't even notice that the tears I've never cried are landing on the floor. A small scream of rage leaves my mouth as I leave the old, seemingly abandoned church.

I'm not aware of where I'm running, where my body is taking me. I run through the crowded streets, running past people who can't see me. I've cloaked myself in glamour. Even if they could, what would they see? A too pretty blonde boy, whos hair has gotten so long that he can't see through the curtain of yellow. A young boy, who used to stand so proud and tall. A young boy, with dark circles lining his eyes thickly, and tears streaking down his cheeks.

I guess some part of me knew where I was going as I tore through Manhatten and finally let the glamour go. It was beginning to rain, the drops mixing with my tears and sweat. How long had I been running? Long enough that my legs are shaking, and my tears are gone because I can no longer cry. Long enough that the warmth of the cab stings. Long enough, that I'm no longer shocked when I tell the cab driver where I want to go.

"And step on it.." My voice holds no rage anymore, no fury. Just a small, weak, defenseless boy.

I am surprised when I knock on the door of a werewolf.

And come face to face with a vampire.


	7. Coffoe

"Raphael," I say curtly.

His dark eyes smile, even though his curved lips stay in a scowl. "Jace."

My scowl deepens as he smirks. Can he see the remnants of tear tracks on my face?

"Looks like you've been doing well. It's such a pity she…"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence.

I hear the growl that rumbles from my chest, and I barely hear a familiar voice whisper my name. I can only feel my knuckles crack, and my watch my next actions, as if from a birds eye view.

I slam him into the wall beside the house by his neck, and only the surprise gives me the advantage.

"I know where you're going with that. So shut up. "

I take a step back as Luke enters from the door. " Go."

I hadn't even noticed it had gotten dark, and the night child ripped himself from my grasp and I watched Luke, disdain in my features.

"So, do you want some coffoe?"

**Sorry it's so short, sorry for the slow updates. Blah blah blah**


	8. Denial

**sorry this has taken sooo darn long, schools gotten in the way. :P **

The cup of joe is warm in my suddenly freezing hands, and I don't even bother to look up into the friendly werewolf eyes. There's too many memories in those eyes, too many things that will shatter this already broken boy. Those memories were at the institute as well, lurking in corners hiding in the once safe haven of dreams. It wouldn't be like this if I hadn't….

"It's not your fault."

I glance up finally, raising one blonde eyebrow. My face drops from the sardonic look of the good old days, and I move one hand from my cup to dig a fingernail into the smooth wood of his table.

"She wouldn't have gone if I didn't ask," I muttered.

Luke raised an eyebrow of his own, and the lines of my mouth stay in their permanent scowl. "Jace, Clary wanted to catch him just as much as you did."

I wince at her name, but not before everything I've been thinking for the past couple of months lets loose."NO. I used her as bait Luke! She died because of me! And he got away, and took her life."

Luke pauses, taking a sip of his own steaming cup of coffee, while my eyes travel back to my cup.

"Simon thinks she's still alive," He says smoothly.

My head shoots up again, and I blink a couple times."That's not possible."

"We never found her body." Luke countered."Or her stele."

"I assumed they burned in the fire," I snap, taking a sip of the scorching hot drink in front of me.

Luke doesn't say anything, and I refuse to believe it. No. I am not getting up my hopes for something that can't be possible. I saw her, I saw her body begin to burn. That beautiful body was empty of a pluse when I picked up her smooth wrist. I should have burned in that building with her. Only I was selfish enough to leave.

"He says he heard her voice, saw her shape," His voice has stayed the same frustrating tone of calm during this whole conversation, while my own has begun to rise.

"The bloodsucker's hallucinating then."

But I've heard things too, seen things. The glimmer of her hair, the whisper of a name called on the wind, my name. I refuse to believe that it's her ghost, I refuse to believe it's anything but the depression taking its hold on me.

"We could look into it," He starts.

"No," I interrupted."You and Simon as we, sure, go ahead. Not me. I refuse."

I stand up and head out the door, not a second thought, not an inkling of where I'm going.


	9. Banishment

**HI. YES. I'M ACTUALLY ALIVE. O.O HAPPY TO SEE ME? Bahahaha. So, this is a pov change: **

I'm floating. The burning of flames is gone, any thought of meaning is gone. Just empty. Devoid of thought, devoid of purpose. Empty of meaning, of life. It's painless, but also empty of happiness. Almost like someone had taken a gigantic vacuum cleaner and sucked up everything in the universe except for me, and now I'm floating helplessly. Only in a way, I'm not helpless, because I could care less.

That was the way it was at first. Just an empty case of obviolin, not even capable of thinking a single thought of any more mass than,"I am floating."

You know those legends and stories your mom used to tell you? Where heaven was a place full of grass and blue skies and happiness and hell was a place of fire and people who did bad things went there? In the end, the stories are always wrong, aren't there?

I've been to hell and heaven. Hell is a fiery place, I'll give you that, but Heaven isn't what it's cracked up to be. Just an empty abyss nothing more.

Or, so I thought, when I had gained capacity to think.

But with that capacity came the memories, and along with memories came the truth. This was no heaven, no earth, no hell. This was just a place in between.

And I, Clarrisa Morganstern, had banished myself here.


End file.
